The Black Opus
by Formaldeafeat14
Summary: In Voldemort's first reign, a man loses everything to the Death Eaters. In his journey to seek revenge, he finds a powerful magical artifact that will change everything. First four chapters are up. Read and rate!
1. Prologue: The Admonition Warning

The Admonition Warning

A peculiar animosity grew from the stone steeple that spit from the ground and raised itself like an obelisk into the sky. Disturbing statues of demons crouched on their perches, guarding the church walls. The church stood high on a hill that watched a lonely village closely. It would seem that the sun rose and fell behind the church like a pendulum. The church seemed to reverberate from its own accord, rising and falling in the night's purple twilight.

A man walked up the cobble-stoned road that led to the church. He wore a bright white cloak that hovered around his legs. A hood covered his face in a shadowy dampness. He quietly drifted from step to step. With his alien apparition, the citizens looked at him with idle curiosity. Children stopped playing their games to look at the oddly robed creature crawling through the marketplace. The man did not turn to look at the townspeople; his face still and unhindered. There was a repugnant air to him—something dark and un-human.

He passed the spectators and continued up to the base of the hill. On the hill's peak lay the church. He opened a gate and began to walk the curling trail that led up to the church doors. He opened the large wooden doors that creaked open like some loud requiem. The seats were empty. Robed people went about their daily tasks among the church walls. The man made his way down the marble floor way to the first bench. The man sat on the front bench, kneeling his head in recital.

A large statue of the savior, singed on the cross, stood above on the church wall. Christ watched the empty room with great intensity, burning away all unholy desires and sins. His body was painted, his eyes blue as the sky. His hair rose down around his left shoulder. The cross was twined in spiked metal, to symbolize the crown he wore. His body was painted a bright alabaster. There was one thing wrong with the statue—something that had not appeared there before. In the statue's eyes deep crimson and scarlet blood began to leak from the blue, falling to the ground below.

---

Three hours later, the entire town gathered inside the church halls and sat among themselves. In the vigilant twilight of the candle glow, the town prayed in woe and regret. Hysteria grasped a man who stood at the podium, screaming at the sky in his native tongue.

The man in white continued to sit, his head slouched over. He was awake, and stared at his tan-colored boots while he fiddled with an ivory-colored wand. He pulled up the wand from its clothed sheath and unnoticed pointed it at the man. The man immediately changed his expression, becoming lethargic. The crowd didn't seem to notice, as they hung on his silence. The man in white moved his mouth—as did the man on the podium. In their native tongue, he spoke.

"You took what I held dear. You hid it from the entire world, fearing it to come back and destroy you. You did not destroy it, for it held information alien to you." He paused through the priest, watching the entire crowd through the priest's eyes. "The item that you have you will never understand. I'm here to warn. I am warning the holders of this book, who secretly listen among us. You have seen things that you cannot comprehend. Things that should've been buried long ago."

"You know not yet of what you have done to yourselves. You have doomed yourselves by taking what was prized. That what was prized was also damned. There can be nothing here except for ashes. As a warning of what will happen in the future. For those who can no longer hear, your blood will be wiped upon the book's pages!"

People in the crowd seemed to cry out, their prayers becoming louder to the omniscient force that they perceived to be listening.

"Your leaders have purposely held this information from you, so you would know nothing of its identity. Yet they study it—quite often—trying to acquire its knowledge. The world of the living cannot comprehend its ideas!" The man said once more. "Return it to the ashes. There can be nothing left."

"Priests of the High Church! Return the book to me and I will leave without regret. If you do not, your citizens will pay." With that, the priest fell to the floor behind the podium. His breathing became irregular as he thrashed on the ground on his own accord. The man in white got up from his seat and looked at the hushed hall. He then walked slowly to the podium and waited. Minutes passed within the horrified hall without any movement. In his vigil, he bowed to the denizens and leapt from the podium to the marble path. He walked briskly to the door and opened them to the rolling and piercing rainfall. He looked back once more at the crowd and smiled. He then leapt out the doors and slammed them shut behind him.

As he walked down the hill to the town, smoke began to rise from inside the church. He looked back on it without surprise. Suddenly the obelisk of stone and wood was engulfed in flame. It lit up the sky, a rolling plume of obsidian radiating off the flames into the sky. The sky lit up with lightning as the building became scorched and cindered by the raging inferno. The church began to collapse, one wall at a time, sending mountains of sparks flying into the midnight sky.

The building was destroyed. Not a pillar stood among the heaped and ruined rubble. The man descended down the hill to the town and walked among its now empty streets. He put his wand into his cloak. As he walked into the darkness it became impossible to tell what was the onyx of the night, or the man's cloak, which turned pitch-black, black as the world surrounding him.


	2. The Bleeding of Cornelius Stork

The Bleeding of Cornelius Stork

He walked briskly through the halls in a limp his feet peppering the floor. Adorning a large suitcase that swung discernibly on his side, he made his way to the end of the valiantly decorated hallway. Christmas decorations flashed without descent around him, lighting his face in some sort of satanic twilight. He pushed forward, his shoulder poised ahead of him as if he was in a deformity. He finally made it to a small room cluttered with machines and patients, who were deeply involved in their slumber. He dropped the suitcase to the floor. He proceeded to move to the edge of the room, to a bed with an elderly inhabitant. The man pushed a chair next to the bed and sat awkwardly in it. He stared at the man's beating and desolate body, as if thinking of something within. His face poised with hatred, his mouth rigged with a certain hellish glare. He pushed forward breathing over the sleeping body like a vulture, as if waiting to consume his essence. He eventually strayed from this position, and picked up the suitcase bringing it over to the bedside.

He pushed open the clamps that held the suitcase shut. He slowly opened it on his lap, taking out two crystal-clear vials and some tweezers. He pulled at the man's hair, managing to pry forth a hair that he dropped into one of the vials. The deformed man then produced quietly a long ebony stick from his coat pocket. He laid it down on the man's chest. Putting the vial away, he sat next to the man quietly.

The man slowly began to wake. When he was awake he lazily pulled up his arm and touched the wand that sat silently on his chest. He flung it into the air casting a crimson illumination over the room. The light reddened the deformed man's extremities. He looked like the reaper, his scythe posed and raised above the old man like a tormenting virus. The man finally laid his wand on his chest and heaved slowly before turning to his company.

"Veris."

"Cornelius." Replied the other man coldly, his voice stinging the air like fire.

"You plan to take it all."

"Yes."

"Well you could easily know more about it if I told you myself. But, you're tight on time, so I wouldn't want to waste it."

"What do I have to lose?" Veris asked smiling.

"In my dying hour, what else is there to do but tell you the truth, Veris?" He looked at the deformed man with a pleading look, as if Veris could deliver him from his reality. "You would want to know of the book." He turned away, towards the other wall.

Veris in his veracity took upon the man like a wolf, ready to devour. "Yes." His smile was demonic. "The book."

The man looked at Veris for some time, before speaking. "Please—for the sake of being, can you make it so they won't hear this…. exchange."

"Ah, don't be an idiot, Cornelius. You have the wand." Said Veris heinously.

Cornelius pulled up the wand, and carefully examined it. "It is mine."

"Yes. It is yours."

Cornelius swiftly extended his arm and a rain of small silver confetti began to shroud him and Veris. "It is done." He looked over at Veris, who sat quietly in the dark room. Cornelius continued to prod and spin his wand through his fingertips. He looked at Veris threateningly. He then pulled it upwards, pulling Veris off his chair, dangling him by an invisible rope. "Veris, I could easily kill you now." Cornelius said, smiling sadistically. "I haven't felt this kind of power…. no…. control for a long time. I thank you for showing it to me again."

Veris looked down at him, holding his neck as if being strangled by hands that didn't exist. "I know you would want to kill me," he said in between breaths, "but you won't. You know for a fact that it will continue to haunt you, and even killing me will not deliver your vengeance. Only in death can you confront your demons."

Cornelius laughed frailly. "You think I have any sort of recognition, any sort of right or wrong?"

"No. But you are old. Your death is not far from reality. You can feel it as I feel it. Killing me would do nothing for you."

Cornelius laughed again, a deviate smile sprawled across his face, "what do I have to lose?" Cornelius looked Veris in the eyes, his own eyes pained with crimson and fire as if his soul was part of his extinction. Then he pulled away, dropping Veris onto the ground.

Veris eventually got up from the floor and sat on the chair. He continually grasped his aching neck. Eventually Cornelius began to speak again, but it was not about the book or magic—it was about his grandchildren. Veris listened intently, waiting for the bridge that would bring him closer to the information he was searching for.

Finally he looked Veris in the eyes. "What do you want the book for?"

Veris looked at Cornelius with odd curiosity. "I want it for the same reason you did."

"And look at me! You-Know-Who wants it so he may cast it into the fire. It threatens him as it threatens men in all their vanity. It threatens the very foundations of the human will. It weakens us. We become slaves to its words. You want this for your own means. I know for a fact You-Know-Who fears it as I do now."

"Why would You-Know-Who fear it if it would give him all the power of the world?"

"There are things you don't understand," snapped Cornelius. "You're a simple wizard, without much knowledge of the world we live in!"

Veris grabbed the old man by shoulders, shaking him violently. "Tell me old man. What do you know that I don't? Do you at least know where it is?"

The old man pushed Veris away. "I do not know where it is, Veris." Cornelius answered. "You see, ever since it left my presence it has since went through the hands of over fifty different wizards. Each wizard has befallen a grievous death by the hands of the next book-holder, and so on and so forth. The last time I heard of its cycle was by the man named Ritter. If you can find him, there is a possibility you can find the book."

"Cornelius, you're lying!" Veris cackled, "You're the worst kind of liar. The one who speaks louder when he knows his words won't carry on to anybody listening!"

"Am I? It has been too long since I tasted the love of a woman, the compassion of a friend. The only thing I know is defeat. Not even my grandchildren can show me their innocence or imagination, for I am numb. It is has been too long since I lost my soul to the domains of that damned book. Vengeance compelled me, and this is where I have come!" Snapped Cornelius.

"You're talking like a madman." Veris said, stepping away from the bedside. He looked at Cornelius as if Cornelius was infected.

"I am a madman, Veris. You do not know what kind of struggles I have had to endure." Cornelius said, trailing off in his mind. "The things I have seen…." Cornelius whispered. "I know why you want it, Veris. You want it so you can become stronger. You believe that you can find it before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Na…." 

"I am already more powerful than Voldemort!" Veris screeched, prowling around the old man's bed. "I'm the most powerful wizard who ever lived. No one will be able to challenge my domain after I kill Voldemort! The wizard and the muggle world will bow to me as they have bowed to him."

Cornelius smiled, "Veris. If you are already more powerful than Voldemort, then why haven't you killed him already?"

"Because the moment is not ready yet." Veris exclaimed into the air. His coal-black wand crept from under his cloak and was dangling in front of the old man like a lure.

"The moment isn't ready yet because you, with all your so called power, are afraid of Voldemort!" Smiled Cornelius

"What are you on old man!" Retorted Veris. "That's not what I said!"

"No, but that would be the only reason for you wanting the book."

"Silence yourself!" Veris said, pointing his wand directly into Cornelius' face. "You speak about things you should not know about. You think your knowledge is far greater than everyone else, but you are wrong. In the long run, the only similar thing between me and you are the colors of our wands!"

"We are different. So maybe that's a good thing." Cornelius, "but perhaps you are still weaker than me." Said Cornelius smiling, seeing his effect on Veris.

"Ha! It would be a shock to know the great Cornelius Stork was more powerful than me." Said Veris, sitting back down into his seat. A silence crept from the walls and etched its presence between the two men. Cornelius turned away from Veris. "Yes….I guess it would be." He fiddled with his wand again, and began to speak openly. "I poured my blood into that book, you know."

"Your blood?"

"My thoughts. My ideas." Cornelius continued. "I shared everything with it. It lived off me, and I began to depend on its wisdom every moment of every day. I poured all of my soul into it, all my feelings. In the end, I had no feelings left for the other things I loved. I no longer had a soul to call mine and to call my own. The book had possessed and corrupted me. I could no longer feel or breath by myself. I dreaded myself. My mind burned with thoughts of inexplicable evil. Then it spoke to me. It talked about my feelings. It controlled me.

"Eventually I attempted to kill myself, but in the end it wouldn't let me." Cornelius smiled. "I eventually abandoned my family, disowned my friends. I began a crusade against the muggles, and I killed off many using their own trickery and magic. So I became one of them, eventually fading out of the wizard world. They eventually came to know who I was, and they began to hunt me. It was at that time that I bled the last drop of blood my body could exert. The last drop of humanity I had."

"And then?" Veris said, his mind on the verge of excitement.

"I rejoined the wizarding world, but I was ostracized by my own vague ideas. I had become the reaper, and the people I knew were the curve of my blade. Eventually insanity came over me. I became numb. I became absolute. At this point I let myself go. I let goof the book. And then I became more human. I could talk again. I changed myself.

"My only regret now is that I didn't destroy the book when I had the chance. I didn't destroy it when it had almost destroyed me."

Cornelius trailed off, turning away from Veris again. "Veris." He said.

"Yes."

"Do not go after the book."

"You know I cannot."

"Yes. I know."

"I have to go."

"Yes. I know."

Veris produced the final vial from his coat-pocket and gave it to Cornelius. "You know I cannot leave without anything."

"I know." Cornelius grabbed his wand, putting it to the temple of his head. He closed his eyes for quite some time. Finally he drew the wand outward, away from his head, drawing with it a thin silvery string. It swirled and spun around his wand. He tipped it on the vial, and it crawled in like a worm. He closed it slowly, shaking the essence that he had put into it. "It is done."

"Yes. Yes it is," said Veris grabbing the vial and the other man's wand, putting them in the unlocked suitcase. He closed it and approached the man's side. He drew his wand from his bosom, and touched the old man's head with the ebony tip.

"What is this?" Said Cornelius offended.

"You knew it would end like this."

"It doesn't have to be this way." Cornelius replied weakly.

"But it does. You even agreed. You have nothing to live for."

"I have grandchildren. My youngest is six." He trailed off, looking at his weathered hand. "She's such a beautiful child." He said, smiling.

"She's a muggle?"

"Yes. No witch would bear a child with me.'" Cornelius said. He paused, "I would like to see my muggle family once more."

Veris paused, looking at the man with a newly held power. "I'll tell you what," he said. "If you can tell me where the book is, I'll let you live."

Cornelius smiled in relaxation, "you know I don't know of the book's location. I am of no help to you."

"Your right, old man. Your not." Veris pushed the wand against the man's head. A breath escaped from Cornelius as he began to slowly slump in his bed. Finally his outstretched arm became limp as it curled off the bed to the ground below.


	3. Of Dragons, Politics, and Goodbyes

Of Dragons, Politics, and Goodbyes

The dragon's ember scales shimmered brightly under the dew and hemmed sun. The dragon's beating body stomached downward, casting reflections on the sea. In the sky above hammered mountains of rolling clouds. The dragon dove its head under the water, splitting the rolling sea. It rolled upwards majestically in a single stroke of its wings, ascending high into the clouds. It roared, its whole body shaking from the ear-splitting screech. Its body sturdy and powerful, every muscle bleating and tense in its flight.

The dragon fell downward. A man rode on the dragon's back, on a pitch-black harness that he tugged at vigorously as they made their decent from the heavens. Land. A precipice of cliff that sat over the ocean rocks. The sea lapped up against its base. Seagulls chimed around the shoreline like insects, clinging to the rocks as they searched for food. Standing on the overhanging mass a woman and her two children. Behind them, at the base of the trail, stood a man in a trench coat. He did not look up as the dragon fell to the cliff. It landed on the largest part of the cliff. The ground staggered from the sudden impact. The rider pulled on the reigns, regaining control of the dragon that snorted and fleeted before laying his head down obediently. The man leapt from his roost to the ground below. The children ran laughing towards him.

"Marie! Thomas!" He said, embracing them. He looked up to the woman who still stood at the edge of the cliff, looking out to the sea. He turned back to the children. "You go get your mum, Thomas. Be quick."

"Jared. It's been a while." Called a voice behind the dragon-rider. A man appeared behind the dragon, moving around the dragon, his wand out to his side.

"And you." Rick said, eyeing the other man cautiously. The other man seemed to take notice of the other man's wand.

"Ah, this?" He noted, nodding to his wand. "It's nothing. Simple precaution, that's all."

"I see." Rick said with a sarcastic tone. By now the children had returned with their mother, who stood solemnly by the dragon-rider. The children seemed to cling to Rick, in their excitement.

"Rick. I see you have met Derin. Derin. This is Rick."

"We've met."

"Yes. Yes we have," said Derin, tossing a lit cigarette off the Cliffside to the sea below. The wind blew victoriously around the five figures, drifting through their hair and clothing. "So. How are things going in your part of the world?" Derin said, putting his wand away.

"We're…. fine."

"No doubt you've heard of the things happening over here." Derin said on the assault. "The horrifying things happening over here."

"Of course."

"The things that you and your administration seem to ignore."

"Derin…." Pleaded the woman.

"Our administration has ignored your pleas for help? What about the tribulations that we've been through? When in the last twenty years has The Ministry helped us? You don't talk about things you don't know about." Rick said.

"Things I don't know about? You're more stupid than I thought…."

"Says the traitor."

Derin smiled. "Who's the traitor when you turn away from your own kind to save your own ass?"

"Come on now." The woman sighed, "There are children here."

"By the way, I jump with glee when you call me a traitor!" Derin shouted.

"Do I look like an idiot? I know what's going on, but there are things that you don't understand."

"Oh, well, according to you I don't understand anything." Derin said, turning away. "And for your information, you do look like an idiot. A pretty fucking stupid one."

"You take that back." Rick mumbled, pulling forth a wand from his suit. "I don't care who you are, you don't ever offend me!"

Derin turned around towards the sea. He looked back at Rick with a glare of utmost serenity. "I wouldn't ever think of doing something like that."

Rick turned to the woman. "Julianne. What the hell is his problem?"

"Can you just stop? Please." Julianne pleaded to Rick.

"My problem is the state of things and how ignorant you are." Derin said, moving closer to Rick, his movement causing Rick to pull up his wand in disagreement.

"Der…." The woman pleaded again.

"No, Julianne. For the past year we have been asking for your help. What happens on this land—Britain, will have a wider effect on the world, including your little paradise America.

"I cannot say that you would understand. You've never been introduced to the terror we've been through."

"Is this some sort of joke?" Rick asked, clearly offended.

"Joke. How is this a joke? There are people being murdered all around you. You cannot see that it is the cause of Voldemort?"

The word 'Voldemort' seemed to have an impression on Rick, for he stepped back bewildered at Derin's disposition.

"Every day someone is murdered because of his or her blood. Someone's murdered because they speak out. Someone is tortured because of the things they know. And it gets worse every day. The Minister of Magic is going to be assassinated soon. He can feel it, and so can I. When that happens every wizard and witch in the world will be affected. Don't tell me that this is all a joke. You have no idea what a joke is."

Rick looked at Derin with a furious look, as if about to explode. He opened his mouth to say something, but turned around. "We should get leaving," he said briskly and violently, walking over to the large dragon.

"Can you wait a few minutes Rick? I have a few things I would like to say to Derin before we leave." The woman asked. Getting a nod of appraisal, she walked over to Derin who stood on the very edge of the peninsula. He looked back at her.

"So this is goodbye." He said smiling.

"Yes. This is goodbye." They stood there, looking at each other while the wind cascaded gently from the sky's fingertips. She embraced him. Tears welled up within her eyes, but she did not cry. Finally she let go of him, but they held each other's arms firmly. "I feel so bad. This world is so messed up. There's not much hope left."

He pulled her up, looking at her face. "You hold on. There are too many people thinking like that. Where your going the darkness hasn't reached yet. And if it does, just keep living, no matter what. Live. Don't lose hope, Julianne. Don't lose it."

She wiped her eyes with her hand, mascara running down her cheek. "I'm thinking about you and your family. When will you leave?"

"When my job here is done, we will all leave together. Until then, I'm sending them ahead of me. I don't know how long I'll be here."

"You leave soon."

"I will."

"Julianne!" Rick yelled from his gracious mount.

She turned to Derin one last time. "You don't know how important you have been to me and my family. Ever since Conner…."

"No. There's no amends. You turn around and don't look back. Not once. It will be easier for you."

"Tell Marie I love her as a friend. And the children…."

"Of course."

She smiled weakly at Derin's unchanged face, and she walked away to the large dragon, whose wings were outstretched and ready for flight. She did not once look back, even as she mounted the dragon and began her ascension into the sky.


	4. The Order

The Order

The table was lined with food, dessert and drinks of all sorts. Children, woman, and men sat together, forgetting there past vendettas for a time. They sat without greed sharing stories and laughter with one-another. They passed food among themselves without any hatred. They still managed to keep their bliss in a world distraught with death and darkness. Perhaps they had that to live for—that to fight for. So in the large dining room of 131 Tarinus Court, they lived in their momentary lapse of reality, knowing that the celebration of life may not come again. The Order of the Phoenix celebrated Thanksgiving for perhaps the last time.

A man with the look of faith and wisdom rose at the end of the table, holding a silver goblet into the air. His blue eyes darted around the room from under his spectacles, a faint smile creasing across his mouth. "Here, here!" He said causing the room to stutter to a silence. He nodded to another man next to him. The other man rose, drifting away from a woman who sat caring after her bloated stomach. "I would like to give you a congratulations. In all this turmoil your baby has given us so much light." The first man said quietly. "We all know you will have a very gracious and successful family."

Lily and James smiled at the man brightly, and James sat back down to the comfort of his wife's arms. "Thank you Albus."

"I would like to propose a toast to the order." He paused, his voice becoming pale and hoarse. "However, I cannot propose a toast." He looked at the questioning faces before him, his eyes saddened by his own reprieve. "We cannot toast for the order because we are missing members—members who would be needed for a proper toast. So, we will propose to those we have lost this year, and those we will continue to lose."

The spirit of the room became slightly impaired. The members raised their goblets into the air and drank from them. Dumbledore sipped the liquor from his goblet, and slowly stooped into his chair. The room eventually began to break out into friendly conversation again. Dumbledore began to speak to Lily and James when the door to the dining room burst open, revealing a man soaked wet and shivering. Albus looked at the man's troubled face and immediately stood up before anyone else had the time to.

"Edgar Bones and his family are dead!" He screamed across the room. The room fell immediately silent.

Dumbledore replied harshly, "What do you mean his 'family'?"

"Edgar, Melissa and his two sons were just found dead at his house in London." The man relayed.

Dumbledore stood silent staring at the man, almost biting his bottom lip. He pointed to a man sitting next to James. The man had a scraggily beard and a rough face that had become filled with urgency. "Sirius, get Rummings. Tell him to leave the ministry immediately. Tell him to begin bringing the families here." He turned to James, "James, I need you to leave immediately. Get to the house before the ministry does. They might attempt to hide the incident. Do whatever you can to halt their actions. Hagrid," he said simply to a large man in the corner of the room.

Hagrid's body was twice as big as a mans and he had a long black beard that invaded his face. "Yes, Dumbledore," He said grabbing a large satchel sitting next to him, and disappearing into the hallway.

"The rest of you meet up with me upstairs."

Minutes later the most prominent members of the Order stood bickering in a large room. Dumbledore looked out the window that surveyed the grounds outside, where wizards worked to barricade the large farm from dark magic. He turned around. "Silence." He said quietly as the room slowly died down. "Thank you," he said, his voice slightly annoyed. "We have a problem. We need to bring all of the alerted families here."

"There's not enough room," cried out a man in the back of the crowd.

"We can make room. What I want to do is make sure everyone is safe. Rummings is leaving the ministry. He will attempt to bring one family every night—as not to bring up suspicion. The real reason I called this meeting is not because of the death of Bones—even though deeply despairing this news is—but instead I'm bringing to your attention what we've all feared." He paused, sitting in a large oak chair that seemed to glide to a grand desk in the middle of the room. "Voldemort has begun the attack." The hopeless and angered and saddened looks of the members beamed back at Dumbledore.

"We can pretend that this is not true—but it is. In some way Voldemort has begun to narrow us down. There was no evidence of Bones and his family's relation to the Order. So there must be something we do not know."

"What are you saying," snarled Alastor Moody from the side of the room. "Are you saying that there is a spy among us?"

"I'm not saying that, but I will not deny this accusation either."

"Then what are you saying?" Asked a woman, tears running down her cheek. "That they're killing random wizards now?"

"No, Marla. I'm simply telling you that the Death Eaters are slowly gaining control of the ministry. This kind of thing wouldn't have happened unless he's planning a large move—an attack."

"What if he forced one of our spies to tell him this information?" said a scrawny man with a curled face and beady eyes.

"That would be impossible. Our spies, at the moment, are our most important assets." Dumbledore turned to a man sitting silently and without emotion. "Derin?"

"What is it?"

"Is there something you have not told me? Something that could hint towards this occurrence?"

"No. For the past few weeks he has been quiet and calculating. In the meetings I have been attending he says little to nothing at all." Derin said quietly.

"Perhaps you can find out more." Lily Potter said.

"Perhaps, but I am not that close to Voldemort at the moment. Have we notified the minister of this?"

"Yes. He will know within the next few minutes." Dumbledore said. "I have sent a personal message."

"You know the minister will be powerless soon. He will be dethroned soon. We all know this, Albus." Said an angular man named Caradoc. "Once this happens he can no longer help from the ministry standpoint. We will be all alone. Perhaps this is the first of many steps into killing the Minister of Magic?"

"Don't be a fool," screeched Alastor, "Voldemort wouldn't be stupid enough to attack the minister so early in this conflict."

"Why not? If you cut off the stem the plant eventually dies." Replied Caradoc smugly.

"I agree. He already has more wizards in his command than ever before, with more wizards joining his ranks every day. People on the street know this—and the minister is beginning to allow the papers to report the deaths. It's negative publicity for the Death Eaters. Soon it will become a problem to Voldemort. He has no other choice; the minister will die." Said Derin certainly.

"Perhaps we could protect him here, and he could continue to control the ministry." Squeaked one of the younger members.

"No." Derin said, almost to himself. "He won't have enough power to control the ministry from here—and the Death Eaters will take advantage of that."

"That's not the worst suggestion of the night. It could work…."

"No. It couldn't. You bring him here and we jeopardize our base of operations." Derin spoke out before the room broke out into a frenzy of yelling and arguing.

"That's enough," Dumbledore said softly holding his hand out in the air. "We are simply rethinking old ideas. The minister knows that he cannot be protected here. He knows that his time is short—but he will continue to shed light on things until his demise. We know the Death Eaters have infiltrated the ministry—but they have not fully taken control yet. That's why I believe this is a time of crisis, and we have to find the cause of these sudden attacks. Just last week Weettrig and his wife were murdered outside of the ministry walls. Bone's death is just another casualty." He slowly turned to Derin, his eyes pressed with urgency. "Derin, I need you to leave immediately."

"What of my family?"

"They will be evacuated as soon as possible. We have this under control." Said Dumbledore assuringly, but it was not taken well by Derin. He paused and looked around the room. "Now we come to a conclusion. What is to be done? We have spoke of this before, and as I have said before, it will get worse as we continue on our road of anarchy. There is no doubt in my mind that the ministry will be under Voldemort's control within the year." He looked to his mahogany desk and wrapped his long fingers around the desk's design. "There's a storm coming…." He muttered to the brooding room.

"Now you must leave to your tasks. Derin, Alastor, and Lily .would you wait behind? I wish to speak to you all."

As the members from the order quickly filed out of the room, Derin wandered aimlessly over to Lily's side. "What is it, Albus?" He asked as Alastor waddled into the room, his new wooden leg scratching against the floor.

"It would seem your new appendage is giving you trouble." Renounced Dumbledore slightly amused.

"Yes…well…." Mumbled Alastor. He turned his attention to Derin, "it seems Voldemort is trying to locate something. News from another spy—another source-- has it that he is on a crusade of some sort."

"What would he be looking for?" Derin asked.

"We cannot be sure." Dumbledore interrupted.

"For all we know it could be a new weapon." Lily said sitting in a grand rocking chair that stood in the room's far corner.

"I kind of figured that." Muttered Derin.

Alastor seemed to ignore him as he continued; "we've got one chance to find this weapon. One chance."

"How can you be sure it's a weapon?"

"What else would he be looking for?" Lily remarked from her roost.

Derin paused, feeling tense about the situation. "What about my family? Chloe will not be too enthusiastic about moving here."

"We're not worried about your family's state. They are living as muggles, are they not?" Lily asked.

"Yes."

"Well then there is no problem. We will only move the families who are in grave danger."

"Alright. Will I be able to return to them after this."

"Yes." Said Dumbledore before Alastor could speak.

"Thank you."

"You must leave now. Through the yard to the port key. Meet up Hortridge at Gapegotz."

Derin left the company of the other three wizards and began to climb up the hill to the portkey that led out to London. He heard a snapping noise to the left of him and out of the darkness appeared a tall and lanky man with a bright tan cloak and frizzled hair. His curled mustache was his most prominent facial feature. He was quite old but seemed to bare the body of a younger man.

"Derin." He said alarmed as he cleared the thicket to where he could see Derin more clearly. "Derin. I heard the news. Is it true?"

"Yes. Bones and his family are dead."

"Wow. What a shame. They were good wizards too," he recollected. "Listen, Derin. Where are you going?"

"I must leave immediately. There are rumors of…." Derin stopped himself. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you."

The minister looked at Derin confused. "Ah, I understand." He stopped, looking at Derin. "Listen. I need your company one of these nights. Before you leave to your family. I need to speak to you for a while, Derin. There are things that I must…." He trailed off heading down the hill towards the headquarters. "Well, I'll explain later. But please, they are of utmost importance."

"Yes, Darring. I will drop by."

"Good." He said before leaving Derin to himself and the portkey.


End file.
